Spoiler Warning: Potential spoilers for the very beginning of Dragon Age: Inquisition. Although, if you've seen the trailers, you've probably had all this beginning stuff spoiled anyway.

Six years more or less flew by. Danny, for all his misadventures with Morrigan, had turned out to be a normal boy, never remembering much of that incident. Life was good in Denerim. The toilet business was growing quickly, but I was leaving it to my managers and concentrating on building schools in Alienages all over Ferelden. It was something to do with all the money my invention bringing us.

Anders's concern over the plight of mages confined to Circles grew over the years. He helped many escape, and we'd hidden some in our cellar, smuggling them out of the country. Rivain was tolerant of mages and even welcomed them. But the unrest in the Circles was growing and finally erupted when they voted for independence. That vote sparked a violent reprisal from the templars and it all went to shit from there. Even the Ferelden Circle revolted, and it was soon an open war as the Circles were abandoned.

It was all we could do to keep Anders from joining the rebel mages. Zevran and I argued that we could do more for them as we were, free from the Circle, as Wardens and close friends to the royalty. I was torn too. I'd spent time in one of the worst Circles and I knew what abuses the templars meted out.

Then one day, without any warning, I awoke to a beautiful song whispering in my head. It was a song I'd heard before as Urthemiel rose from the Deep Roads. Back then it was loud and strong, pulling me to him in my dreams. This time it was much fainter.

"Fuck!" I sat bolt upright in bed, shouting in fear. "Avernus, you ancient piece of shit. You said this wouldn't happen!"

Anders groaned and sat up, holding his head in his hands. "There's music in my head. What is it? It isn't…?"

Zevran sat up too and looked at us, concern and puzzlement written on his face. "What? Another Blight? So soon?"

I shrugged. "Maker, I hope not." Cocking my head, I realized the song was fragile. I couldn't even hear it when I was thinking, or listening to others. Was this how it started? But Anders heard it too. "It reminds me of what I've heard about The Calling. It starts off as faint music. A siren song, of sorts. One day you can no longer resist it and you must find the source."

Zevran shook his head. "No, this is far too soon. And you both hear it? Avernus said he never experienced it. I do not accept this." He angrily slashed the air with his hand. "We will go back to Soldier's Peak…"

"And do what, get a refund?" I said. "No, this isn't The Calling. It doesn't make sense we would hear it at the same time. What about Loghain and Alistair? Maybe the Wardens in Amaranthine hear it too?"

"Didn't you say that The Calling happened when the taint grew too strong? You don't look a day older than when we met. The same with Anders," Zevran said. "Rather uncanny, I admit. But it seems, if anything, you are aging more slowly. I suppose that is how Avernus grew so old."

Anders got out of bed and I slid out after him.

"I'll send a raven," Anders said.

Ravens were a thing now. The orbs still worked, but by now many had broken or disappeared. It also occurred to us they could be used for spying, so we had abandoned that convenient mode of communication. One day, a few years after the Blight, tame ravens arrived in Denerim and an apostate mage from Orlais bound them to a newly built rookery in the palace. The rook circus, as it was called, was transported to all the major cities and holdings in Ferelden. At each spot they were "bound" and taught a rune for that location. It was an amazing feat of magic and animal training, as well as a testament to the birds' intelligence. The ravens would carry messages from one place to another, after being shown a rune, assisted by the knowledge that they'd be rewarded with a sticky, sweet grain treat when they arrived.

The message was sent, and the reply returned in a fraction of the time a messenger on horseback would've have done it. Yes, the Wardens in Amaranthine were also hearing the Calling, and so were Alistair and Loghain. The Orlesian Wardens had also been in contact, confirming that we all were all hearing the same thing. And with that there was also an order for us to report to Orlais from the Warden-Commander Clarel de Chanson.

As Loghain read it, his eyes went cold. He calmly tore it in two, and then tore it again and again until nothing was left but shreds which he threw it into the fire.

"Fuck the Orlesians," he said, drawing out the last word in his own special way that made it more a sneer than anything. "I order all the Ferelden Grey Wardens to remain in Ferelden. If this is a Blight, I won't leave us exposed."

"Who died and put you in charge?" I asked. Over the last decade he'd gotten used to my insubordination for the most part. He might be Ferelden's top general, but he had no authority over the Wardens. "If I recall correctly, Nathaniel was appointed W.C. by me and it was all settled at the Landsmeet."

Loghain glowered and I smiled at him cheekily. In the old days, this would've ended with us in bed or me in Fort Drakon. I bet he could read me still and see that, despite everything, I still thought he was sexy as hell. Eventually his glower softened and he chuckled. "I trust you'll help Nate see reason?"

"Of course." No way anyone was going to Orlais. That was madness.

And I was right. Nathaniel didn't need me to needle him. He wasn't about to leave his pregnant wife on the orders of a "damn Orlesian", or so he said. Sometimes I wondered if Loghain wasn't his real father.

A Few Weeks Later

Divine Justinia, trying to end the templar-mage war peacefully, called for a conclave at Haven. I was invited, but with everything going on with this weird Calling, I had no idea how much longer I might have on this world. I did not wish to be separated from Danny. I also didn't want to take him into a potentially volatile situation. Anders desperately wanted to go so I sent him in my place.

I will never forget the sight of him turning and waving as he rode off to witness the historic summit between the templars and mages. He hoped that this might be the beginning of a reformation of the Chantry, the final dissolution of the Circles, and the ending of the templar order. I hoped he was right.

~o~o~o~

"My lady, His Majesty wishes you to see him immediately." A breathless palace courier placed a sheet of paper in my hands and I saw Alistair's scrawled message. The urgency was undeniable and the warning "talk to no one" made me uneasy. I practically ran after the courier, following him back to the palace. I found the king pacing back and forth, his hair sticking up messily as if he'd been running his hands through it.

"Alistair?" His mood was contagious. My skin prickled with the nervous energy he seemed to exude.

"Sit down, Lucy." He gestured to his throne.

"Oh no, you're not tricking me into that," I said, trying to make a joke to lighten the atmosphere.

"Sit." This time there was command in his voice. He'd gotten pretty good at that, but I wasn't used to hearing it directed at me.

I meekly walked to the throne and perched on the edge. "Okay. What is it?"

"I got word from Haven. The conclave was destroyed in a massive explosion. Everyone was killed. Every man, woman, child, The Divine, every noble, every servant, every mage and every templar!"

"Oh god!" It felt like I'd just been punched in the stomach. I wanted to vomit. I couldn't breathe. "Anders!" I felt the world spinning around me. I had sent Anders to his death. Tears sprung to my eyes and flowed down my face. "No, Alistair. It isn't true. It can't be."

He looked at me sternly, holding his hand up. "All but for Anders, Lucy. Can you explain this to me?"

All but for Anders? It echoed in my head. My emotions whiplashed from one end of the spectrum to the other end. He wasn't dead! He survived. I sprung to my feet and hugged Alistair. "He's alive then?" I felt guilt for feeling so happy. So many people had died.

He pried me loose and looked at me sternly. "He is. But many suspect he might be responsible. Tell me, Lucy, is there any chance?"

I shook my head. "Never. He was no fan of templars or the Circles, but he would never do anything like that. Never slaughter innocents needlessly. You've seen him in the clinic healing people, even templars. He is no mass murderer!"

Alistair drew a deep breath and nodded. "I know. I just needed to hear it from you." He pointed at the throne again. "Sit down. There's more."

"Oh god," I whispered, but obeyed.

"People are calling him the Herald of Andraste and an organization of Justinia's people, including Leliana, have formed around him. It seems they call themselves the Inquisition."

I was glad I was seated as the world spun again. "Oh god. No." The images that flashed through my head weren't pretty: medieval torture devices, witch burnings, comfy chairs, soft pillows… It was a jumbled hash of history and Monty Python.

"He's in Haven still. They've organized there. I suppose you'll want to join him?" Alistair said.

I nodded slowly. He would need us.

~o~o~o~

When our wagon finally pulled into the village of Haven so many memories returned. Over there was the little store where we'd bought the moldy sausage and found a dead Redcliffe knight. Oh yes, Zevran's Antivan leather boots were from there too. He still had them, though they were too old and decrepit to actually wear. He kept them for sentimental reasons. As we passed through the village he squeezed my hand and we relived our trek to the Temple of Sacred Ashes. Danny listened to us discussing those memories and peppered us with questions.

Finally we arrived at the far end of the village. The Chanty… oh Maker, I'd nearly been beaten there by an old mage-priest. My nose throbbed with the memory. I'd have to see if the tunnels to the temple still remained. Was the guardian was still there with all his tests?

The village was much the same, although it had grown since the Blight, and now all the cultists had fled, or been killed by the Chantry. It bustled with life and seemed to welcome us. Our first visit here, we weren't nearly so warmly received.

I saw the doors to the Chantry swing open and Anders dashed out, a huge smile on his face. Danny yelped with joy and jumped out of the wagon before it had even stopped moving. Zevran and I followed a second later and then we were in his arms. I felt an odd tingling sensation has his hand caressed my face. It was hard to miss the faint green glow from the symbol on his hand. It tickled, and warmed me, much like lyrium did.

"Welcome to the Inquisition," he whispered to me. "I trust you'll help me out with that big glowing crack in the sky?"

"Of course, my darling," I said. "Of course."

The four of us were restrained in our affection with so many reverential gazes trained on Anders. A few onlookers were more diffident, but I could see they looked confused to see such affection from the Hero of Ferelden. Perhaps my presence would help change the hearts of the suspicious.

"Let me introduce you to the rest of the Inquisition," Anders said.

I shook my head at hearing the unfortunate name of the organization, but took his oddly marked hand as he led me into the Chantry. My life, our lives, had taken yet another strange twist.

I think it is safe to say that nobody had expected the Ferelden Inquisition.

The End

Notes: This ends the Lucy saga. The rest I will leave to your imagination. Anders is the Inquisitor. No Morrigan, but I can imagine Danny playing in the garden of Skyhold.

If you have any requests for one-shots, toss 'em at me. I can't promise anything, but if it catches my fancy I may do it. I potentially have one or two coming. Perhaps.

I have begun to work on an original story. It is a very tentative start, so who knows if I will finish it or not. But I woke up with an idea one morning and I have been nurturing it. Unlike my fanfics, I'm not pantsing it.

Thanks for all the reviews, my dears! And thank you for reading this work for all the years (can you believe it?) that I have been writing it. Now… pardon me while I go run through a field of daisies and scream and shout, "I'm done! I'm done! I'm free at last!"

My special thanks to Zevgirl and Biff McLaughlin for their encouragement, suggestions, and beta-reading!

*cues up Etta James singing "At Last"*